


Orange Blossom

by Danko_Kaji



Series: Final Fantasy X-3: Last Will & Testament [3]
Category: Final Fantasy X, Final Fantasy X & Final Fantasy X-2, Final Fantasy X -Will-, Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: Childhood Friends, Gen, Headcanon, Meta, Pre-FFX
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 11:04:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18603232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danko_Kaji/pseuds/Danko_Kaji
Summary: A moment in paradise for Bevellian children born in a doomed world. One-shot.





	Orange Blossom

**Author's Note:**

> Character Ages: Baralai ― 13, Chuami ― 9, Kurgum ― 9

Chuami runs as fast as her short, little legs can take her, chasing after his flickering white cape and glinting gold tassels. Her lungs feel like they are about to burst, the summer heat scorching her gasps for air aflame while the harsh sunlight bears down on her vision. His joyous laughter bounces toe-to-toe with his boot-clad feet, mocking the distance between them.

Baralai dashes ahead and she picks up speed, disregarding Kurgum’s distant pleas for them to slow down as the youngest of the trio lags behind. A chocobo-drawn carriage rolls into view from direction of the ocean, prompting Chuami to break out into a smug grin. This ought to slow him down long enough for her to steal the winds from his sail― and then he lunges forward to grasp onto the wooden rail, pushing himself off the freight full of wild-caught fish to _fly_ , his arms spread out wide to embrace the air.

Incensed by his athletic ability, Chuami pinches her gaping mouth into a vicious scowl, watching Baralai land on the cobblestone street with the grace and flourish of a ceourl. Ducking around the girth of the carriage, she scrapes her knees in her clumsy haste, before pushing against the fiery ache that courses through her entire body. Seeing him slow to a leisurely trot now, Baralai pirouettes to smile back at them in wicked glee ― goading her to roar in anger.

“Not fair! No fair no fair _no fair_! You’re too fast!”

He’s older and faster and so much bigger! How can she ever win?

Not even a couple yards across the obsidian shingle beach, Chuami trips over her sore feet, desperate to catch her breath. Kurgum eventually trudges over to reach her side, collapsing beside her in sympathy pains whilst hugging his aching stomach.

“You― Y-You― jerk!”

“We’re tired―! No more…”

“I’m not falling for that~!” Baralai sings, swaying on his feet with bountiful energy to spare.

Chuami lifts her chin to glare, annoyed by the infuriating sight of his cheeky grin from the distance. How does he not look the least bit tired or sweaty? What kind of monstrous training does his father put him through? Regathering her bearings, she climbs to her knees, seeing him for the muscles that his stuffy, priest robes hide in hours of solemn prayer. Where most boys strut gangly, awkward legs and pasty white arms, Baralai looks like he slept in the hearth of Ifrit’s hottest flames, boasting slim, wiry muscle that belies his pious image.

Bored by their dramatic display of exhaustion, Baralai hops to the beat of his own tune, playing choco-zigzag over the smooth, round stones that give way beneath his toes until he plants his feet before them, hands twined at his back. “Hey, let’s take a break. I’m hungry.”

Hard to argue with that, so she does not complain, resenting his whimsical, cruel heart regardless. She refuses to give him the satisfaction, though, so she breaks out into the ugliest, rudest face she can muster, the kind adults hate with a passion. Baralai grins, pinching her cheeks to stretch them out, delighted by her chagrin. 

“Such a grotesque face does not become you, fair lady.”

She blows a raspberry at him, pleased by the trajectory of saliva splattering his face. Annoyance bleeds through his genial expression, and before she can claim that moment of victory, he reciprocates the raspberry with equal gusto.

“Ew! Gross!”

“You started it!”

“Blegh!”

“Hmph.” Wiping his face free of germs, he glares at her in mock anger before shifting gears to dote on Kurgum now, further inciting Chuami's scowl of contempt. “I’m sorry, Kurgum. Are you feeling alright? If you’re too tired, I can carry you.”

“I-I’m fine…” Kurgum manages a timid smile, grasping his hands to right himself; spying his mischievous smile too late.

Baralai stoops to sling him over his shoulders, delighting in his yelp of fright as he breaks out into a sprint, hollering, "Chocoback ride!"

“S-Slow down! I’m feeling dizzy― urk―”

“Hey! Wait for me~!”

Entertained by the younger boy’s fumbling attempts to gain purchase on his person, Baralai laughs, braving the perilous, rocky shingles that threaten to capsize him from the soles while Chuami gives chase. They eventually settle down at the edge of a rocky cliff, their bare legs shy of the vicious sea spray brought on by the roar of the waves as they start peeling oranges, courtesy of Baralai’s latest pilfer from his parents’ greenhouse. 

Chuami looks up at some point to catch him throwing torn rinds into the waves and snickers. “Litterer~ You’re a litter… er. Yeah. Litter-er.”

“I’m not littering. I’m feeding Sin.”

“Weirdo.”

“And you’re the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Wha―? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re a weirdo, too.”

“Again, weirdo. Who talks like that anyway?”

“Smart people.” Baralai pouts, chucking another rind. “And it’s what Sin deserves. Orange rinds are inedible and disgusting. What better punishment than to taste the bitter fruit of retribution?”

Chuami rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah. Orange peels. Let’s hope Sin's allergic.”

Kurgum giggles, entertained by their bickering. “But what if Sin comes back to destroy Bevelle because you were being mean?”

“Bevelle’s protective barriers are impregnable.”

“Impregna-what now?”

“Indestructible!” Baralai shoots to his feet, punctuating his exclamation with a pump of his fist. “They haven’t fallen since Bevelle's restoration a thousand years ago. They are manned by our strongest priests, after all. And someday, I’ll be one of those warrior priests sworn to protect Bevelle. Sin would never be able to touch us, not in ten years, not in a thousand―.” 

“You’ll be dead in a thousand years.” She deadpans, squinting up against the harsh glare.

“Not in my living memory.” Baralai beams down at her, eclipsing the sun. “Someday, I will become a Maester, maybe even the Grand Maester, and I will use my authority to learn the secret of Sin. Even if I don’t end up becoming the hero who defeats Sin, that’s okay, because in the new world, I will be the one to lead it.” Windswept by the gravity of his own words, Baralai casts his gaze out into the glittering, vast ocean, twining his fingers at his back. “That’s my dream. A world without death or suffering. A world without Sin. A peaceful world.”

Chuami peers up at him, blinded by his radiant silhouette. She does not know where his conviction comes from, but she possesses no desire to tease him this time. Envious of his ability to hold fast to faith, she wants to believe him with all her heart.


End file.
